


Call me a cab. Ok, you're a cab

by Graysongirl



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Character Study, Enemies to Friends, M/M, Protective Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Vox Not Being a Jerk (Hazbin Hotel), drunk boyfriends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-16 22:34:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28963983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Graysongirl/pseuds/Graysongirl
Summary: Angel calls Alastor to pick him up late one night from a bar and the deer demon ends up having a rather pleasant conversation with a demon there for the same reason
Relationships: Alastor & Vox (Hazbin Hotel), Alastor/Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel), Valentino/Vox (Hazbin Hotel)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 133





	Call me a cab. Ok, you're a cab

**Author's Note:**

> So this was a crack idea in my head that wouldn't leave until I wrote it. It's not linked to anything else and isn't meant to be taken 100% seriously but I sort of liked the idea of Vox and Alastor bonding over waiting for their party animal boyfriends.

Alastor wasn’t sure why he let Angel Dust talk him into getting a cellular communication device. The boxy piece of technology was a complete hindrance to him, an extra weight in his pocket which disrupted his day with its infernal beeping and chiming. Angel had told him it was time for him to join the 21st century and reminded him that this way he always knew he could get in contact with him at short notice. Alastor had explained that the normal telephone in his office did the exact same thing but Angel had not been swayed. The spider demon had set it all up for him, even personalising the ringtones with different jingles for each of the four contacts that he had permitted him to add- Charlie, Nifty, Husk and, of course, Angel himself. 

Currently it was sitting on his desk, taunting him with its very presence. Alastor tried to ignore it as much as possible, only taking the device from its spot on the desk when he left the hotel as per Angel’s request. He knew deep down it was a sensible idea, Angel kept very unusual hours with his job and Alastor had to admit the ability for his lover to contact him in an emergency was comforting, but that didn’t mean he had to actually like it. 

Angel was out currently, not at work but dancing with some friends of his from the studio. Alastor appreciated that Angel had these hobbies outside of the hotel even though some of the clubs in Hell were hardly conducive to the demon’s so-called redemption with Charlie. He was just about to go back to reading his book when the device on his desk started to jingle, an old jazz tune that reminded him of Angel breaking the coveted silence of his office. 

Tentatively, he picked it up and swiped the green phone icon on the screen like Angel had shown him. 

“Hello?” 

“Hi, babyyyyy,” Angel’s voice rang through the speakers. “I’mma think I need ya to come and pick me up.” 

Alastor angled the phone away from his ear slightly, practically smelling the alcohol on Angel through the speakers. “Angel, _mon amour,_ are you ok?” 

“Yessss, just a teensy tiny little bit drunk,” Angel giggled on the other end of the line. “I had some money for a cab but I can’t find it and I didn’t wanna suck someone off for the fare when I feel like this.” 

“Indeed,” Alastor agreed. Their relationship was what some people would describe as open, and others would describe as frighteningly complex. Alastor had very little interest in activities of a carnal nature with his partner so there was an agreement of sorts between themselves that Angel could find an outlet for his needs when he had to. Fellating a gentleman for cab fare was not exactly part of that agreement so he was relieved he’d had the foresight to call him. He would always drop everything for his spider, he’d even cut a radio broadcast short for him when the demon had come home from a shoot upset about the way his rat of a boss had treated him. 

“So can ya come?” Angel prompted, pulling the deer out of his thoughts. “S’just a bit dark and a long way to walk, ya know?” 

“Certainly, _mon Ange,_ ” Alastor assured him. “Would you like me to come immediately?” He could of course shadow meld his way right outside the club if Angel wanted him to, or he could drive and save the energy. 

“Nah, drivin’ is fine,” Angel told him. “I’m at the Diablo on 7th street, ya know it?” 

“Hm-hm,” Alastor nodded. The phone device came with a navigation option and Alastor had to begrudgingly admit it was rather helpful in these moments where he had to collect Angel from locations he had never dreamt of setting foot in before so had no clue where they were located. 

“Cool, see ya soon. Love yooooou,” Angel cut the call off, leaving Alastor holding the now silent device. He slipped it into his pocket and collected his jacket from the stand by the door, slotting a bookmark into his novel and placing it down on the desk before heading out into the lobby. One of the perks of hotel management was borrowing Charlie’s beautiful old car that her father had gifted to her as a graduation present. Alastor had his own vehicle at his old residence, but he was never going to turn down the option of collecting his beau in a much nice model. 

He called in to Charlie as he left, collecting the keys from her and assuring her he would keep her car safe. She hardly drove it anyway, often using her mother’s limo instead but she still took good care of it. 

Positioning the phone in the holder on the dashboard he gingerly opened up the navigation app, scowling at the little VOGItech logo in the top corner. Did that disgusting TV demon have to have the monopoly on every bit of technology in Hell? He even sold radios now. _Digital_ radios with numbers and LEDs instead of dials like they were supposed to be. Vile. 

The route wasn’t a difficult one. The hotel was quite centrally located and eventually all the roads that made up the pentagram shape of the city connected together. He couldn’t pull up right outside the venue like he had wanted to, but found a side road that seemed acceptable to leave the car in. Besides, anyone stupid enough to try and jack the radio demon’s tyres would certainly have a death wish. 

He almost forgot the cell phone still on the dash board and had to double back to collect it, stowing it in his pocket with the intention of ringing Angel when he got to the club. He looked up at the names on the various clubs and bars on the strip and halted when he got to the one in question. The Diablo was a relatively popular club in Hell, one of the few not owned by Valentino so often regarded as a fairly safe location for his staff to let their hair down without fear of being hassled for work. 

Bringing up Angel’s number on the phone he pressed the screen a little harder than necessary, frowning when the number didn’t connect. He tapped the screen again with his index finger, jiggling it from side to side to try and get it to respond. 

“Come along, you infernal contraption!” he snapped quietly at it. “I do not have time for your whimsical desire not to function.” 

“Gee, that’s a lot of words for ‘why don’t I have a signal’” A static laced voice said next to him. Alastor turned his head to glare at the creator of the very device that was causing him grief and continued to poke at the screen. 

“Good evening, Vox,” he said calmly, not giving him the benefit of his full attention but still having the good manners to at least acknowledge him. 

“Good evening, Alastor,” Vox replied, equally as tight lipped and polite. “Not your usual part of town, I must say.” He glanced sideways at the phone. “Aw, and you bought my tech, how sweet.” 

“I did nothing of the sort!” Alastor denied quickly. The very idea of lining Vox’s pockets made his skin crawl. The device was simply a second hand one of Angel’s that he didn’t need anymore. He wouldn’t have been caught dead actually paying money for one of these idiot devices. “It was a gift.” 

“They must not know you very well then,” Vox commented, snickering at the ineptitude. “You won’t get signal out here. It’s a dead zone.” When Alastor looked confused he sighed and rolled his eyes, a rush of colour animating over his screen. “I means phone signals don’t work here. You’d get one on the dance floor if you went in there but nowhere else unfortunately.” 

“How terrible for you, an area of Hell where you can’t exert your technological control,” Alastor sneered. 

“Yeah, yeah, lap it up,” Vox laughed, an audience sound filtering over it and making the empty doorway seem more populated than it was. “Try texting whoever you want to call, that probably works.” 

“Right…” Alastor looked down at the screen. 

“The little picture of an envelope,” Vox stage whispered. 

“I know that!” Alastor snapped, jabbing the button to prove just how much he knew and painstakingly composing a message to Angel to let him know he was outside. 

“You know you don’t need to put ‘dear’ and ‘from’ in texts, right?” Vox pointed out, slinking up behind him and reading over his shoulder. “You’re not writing a letter.” 

“Please step away,” Alastor said quietly, pressing send as several ripples started to appear in the shadows around them. One of them made their way towards Vox, exerting a bit of pressure on his pant leg and roughly tugging him away. 

“Geez, chill out,” Vox snorted, zapping the shadow creature away with a tiny zap of energy from his thumb, sending the inky black creature scuttling back towards Alastor with a small hiss. 

“Why are you here?” Alastor asked eventually. “Are you stalking me?” 

“Wow, full of yourself much?” Vox laughed. “You should be so lucky. No, Val called. He’s smashed and needs a lift home. Apparently I’m the designated driver in situations like this.” 

“Likewise,” Alastor agreed with a small hum, crossing his arms and letting them both lapse into silence. 

A few demons staggered out of the club as they waited, drunken Hell School students celebrating the end of term or over worked low level demons trying to find an escape from their torment. Alastor was fairly certain he saw one of them vomit against the wall in the alley next to them after passing them. His lip curled in distaste. Why did Angel enjoy such venues? He could hear the loud music thumping through the walls, a repetitive beat with no real melody other than a heavy bassline and some overly tuned lyrics. 

“So…” Vox broke the silence, rocking on his heels and drumming his fingers on his folded arms. “You and Angel, huh?” 

“Yes.” 

“How’s that working out for you?” 

“Fine. Thank you for asking.” 

“Cool.” Vox nodded and went back to drumming his fingers, eventually pulling out his own phone and doing some scrolling. Alastor could see the screen reflected in the one that made the TV demon’s face, pictures and text illuminated against him as he tapped his fingers on the screen with lightning speed. 

“You should just go in and get him, you know,” Vox pointed out after a while longer of them both just standing there. “He’s probably not looking at his phone.” 

“I have no desire to acquaint myself with such a venue,” Alastor said shortly. “Angel will come out when he is ready to. Why aren’t you going in there for Valentino?” 

“Same reason, babe,” Vox shrugged. “Not my scene either.” 

“But it’s loud and tasteless, just like you,” Alastor said sweetly. “How could you not feel at home in such a location?” 

“Ouch, low blow, old timer,” The TV demon chuckled despite the barbed words. “Surprising as it may seem I don’t always want the loud EDM junk that they throw around in these places.” 

“Curious.” Alastor checked his phone for a reply, frowning when he didn’t see a notification on the screen. He hoped Angel was ok in there, as much as he didn’t like the idea of going into a night club such as this he would it if meant helping the spider. 

Vox seemed to pick up on his concern and glanced at the door. “When a guy like Angel says they’re ready to be picked up from the club,” he confided, “always expect them to be at least half an hour after they actually say."

"Why is that?” Alastor asked. 

“Because they need to finish their last drink, tell every last one of their girlfriends that they love them, take about a million selfies, fix their make up in the bathroom and take a million more selfies, then finish the conversation that they started in the bathroom doing their make up, then tell their girls they love them again, then queue up for their coats and then they can leave,” Vox explained, counting out each item on his finger with an exaggerated look of long suffering on his face. 

“You sound like you have experience,” Alastor raised his eyebrow. 

“Not my first time picking a guy up from a party,” Vox sighed bitterly, reaching into his coat for a packet of cigarettes. “Smoke?” 

“No thank you, I’ve seen what those can do,” Alastor’s lip curled at the sight of the packet. 

“Nah, these are normal, promise,” the media demon told him, popping one out and lighting it. “Come on, share a smoke while we wait for our dames.” 

In spite of his dislike of Vox, the radio demon begrudgingly accepted, taking the offered cigarette and lighter and passing it back once he was lit up. He rarely smoked in Hell, it had been a habit when he was alive purely because of the time, but down in the pits he didn’t feel the same need to. Once in a while, however, it was rather pleasant to, it reminded him of old times. 

“See? Safe as houses,” Vox teased. “I won’t tell your mama that you let the cool kid pressure you, don’t worry.” He cocked his head towards the doorway, listening for something. “Sounds like Angel,” he commented at the sound of laughter coming from inside and a giggling chorus of affectionate declarations of love and ‘call me’. 

“Hey, _cervo mio,_ ” Angel slurred, coming out of the club and wrapping his arms around Alastor. He was always a lot more affectionate when he was drunk and Alastor gently eased him off of him with a small kiss on the forehead. 

“Evening, _mon Ange_ ” he replied. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah, I’m beat,” Angel grinned, looking over at Vox and blinking. He looked back at Alastor, a bit confused through the drunken haze. “You two ok?” He asked, clocking the cigarettes they were both smoking, the slightly blue tinge to the smoke a bit of a giveaway that they were the TV demon’s brand. They were harmless, the colour simply a quirky marketing device, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t incredibly strange. 

“Yes, just having a… friendly chat,” Alastor nodded. “Will you be waiting much longer, Mr Vox?” 

“Yeah,” Vox shrugged. “Val likes to keep me waiting. I’ll be fine,” he held up his phone. “Got all of Hell for company.” 

“Enjoy your evening,” Alastor slipped off his coat and put it over Angel’s shoulders. The spider demon would catch a death if he walked to the car in just the tiny outfit he was wearing. Tenderly he put his arm around him, steadying him as he drunkenly tottered on his foolishly high heeled shoes, not noticing the look Vox gave them both as they walked away. 

“Come on, Val…” he murmured, looking at the empty inbox on his phone.

**Author's Note:**

> So there we go! No, I'm not sure what the point of this was either! Hope it was at least interesting and raised a few laughs.


End file.
